Angels Among Us
by IlaunaDespain
Summary: Weechester One Shot Dean is left while John is on a hunt. Sam gets sick and Dean dosen't know what to do.


_**Angels Among Us**_

Dean slammed the hotel room phone down; all he was getting was a busy signal. He quickly glance at Sammy sleeping restlessly on the couch, every blanket Dean could find covered his little brother. It had started out as nothing more then an annoying cough, and now he was running a fever. Or at least that's what Dean figured, without something to check it he was relying on the simple act of touching his brothers' forehead. "Where are you Dad?" Dean asked himself.

Their Dad was two days over due but because of the snowstorm outside, the phones had been down and Dean couldn't think of anyway to get a hold of Pastor Jim. He sat beside Sammy and brushed back his damp hair. "Don't worry Sammy, I'll figure out something." He hoped he sounded more confident then he felt. He got up, grabbed his jacket, and headed outside to the payphone. He knew if the phone in their room was down then that one should be to, but he could hope. The snow was thick and made it damn near impossible to see his hand in front of his face.

Thoughts of getting turned around and not being able to fine his way back to the room ran briefly through his head. He quickly pushed those thoughts out of his mind, "They don't help Sammy," he considered to himself. He pulled his jacket tighter and squinted against the snowflakes. They were getting caught in his hair and lashes and melting just as quickly as they fell. The phone booth stood smack dab in the middle of the parking lot, kind of a stupid place if you asked Dean. But it also made it easy to find, it was the only thing giving off any kind of light in the storm. It stood like a lighted beacon in the dark and Dean followed it.

Dean made it to the booth, opened the door feeling grateful it was a full door and kept the snow out. He picked up the receiver and nearly jumped for joy when he was met with a dial tone instead of a busy signal. Dean reached his quickly numbing fingers into the pockets of his worn jeans and after fishing around found what he needed, twenty-five cents. He plugged it into the phone and dialed Pastor Jim's number. After the fifth ring he got a very sleepy, "Hello?"

Breathing a sigh of relief Dean answered, "Pastor Jim, its Dean. My Dad's late and I was just now able to get a hold of you, and Sammy's sick, I think he might have a fever, but I don't have anything to check and see. I don't know what do to." All the stress he had been holding in since he found Sammy unresponsive just tumbled out of him. He might not have been able to see him but just hearing Pastor Jim's voice gave him hope.

He took a breath and waited for Pastor Jim to tell him what to do. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second Dean, I barley understood any of that. Take a breath and tell me again."

Gulping down a few more lungs full of air Dean re-told him what was going on. Sammy was sick, their dad was late and Dean hadn't been able to get a hold of Pastor Jim till just now because of the snowstorm.

"Alright Dean, I'll try and get a hold of your dad, but in the mean time you get back to Sammy. I'll be heading out to get you two."

Dean shook his head even though Pastor Jim couldn't see him, "You don't understand. I can't get Sammy to wake up; he's sweating buckets and moaning a lot. I don't know what to do for him." He was starting to panic just thinking about it, an injury that was bleeding or even a broken bone he could handle. But this was new and Dean had no clue how to help his little brother.

"Alright Dean I hear you. Keep him comfortable and if his temp gets much higher…" Dean waited for him to finish but he never continued.

"Pastor Jim? Pastor Jim!" Dean looked at he receiver as if he could will the connection to come back. "This is not happening." He clicked the cradle and finally slammed the phone back into it, letting off a string of curses. He looked back in the general direction of the room. He needed to get back to Sammy. He jerked the door open and cringed at the blast of cold air and snow that hit him. His eyes were practically closed and he never saw the body standing right out side the booth. He ran head long into it.

"Oh sorry," he mumbled.

"I take it this phone isn't working either?" asked a high-pitched voice.

Dean tried to look up into the face but all he could see was a dark figure, he guessed it was female by the sound of the voice. "Yea just died." He brushed past her to get back to the room, when she lightly tapped his shoulder.

"Um… I think your room is that way," she told him pointing in the opposite direction. He glanced the way she was pointing and was able to make out the room. He grunted his thanks and took off that way. He had only gone a few steps when he realized the voice was following him. He reached his door then spun around to face her.

While they were still technically out in the snow, the wind was less severe and Dean got a really good look at the women. She was tall, but then again to a ten year old most adults were tall. She looked to be wearing a white parka with a hood lined with white fur. It gave the women a kind of funny looking halo, as patches of dark hair circled around it. "What!" he asked once he got over her appearance.

The women just cocked her head to the side, "Nothing, I guess I'm next door to you is all." Her bright blue eyes were more full of concern then scorn at a kid talking to her the way Dean just had. There wasn't that much light out here but for some reason the woman's eyes seemed the shine.

"Sorry, guess the storm has me a little jumpy," Dean said in way of an apology.

She smiled, "Now what could an eight year old have to be jumpy about?"

"I'm ten."

She crossed her arms, "I'm sorry then. What does a ten year old have to be jumpy about?"

Dean said nothing but turned his back on her and opened his door. "If you need anything I'm right next door." Dean shut his door choosing not to comment. He shucked off his jacket and shook out his freezing hair.

Sammy was still asleep but he was no longer moaning. In fact unless Dean paid really close attention it looked as if he wasn't breathing either. He shook his little brother to try and wake up. "Sammy, come on buddy, open your eyes." All he got was a soft moan. "Sammy wake up, buddy!" He shook him harder; his eyes fluttered but still stayed shut. Dean let out an even longer string of curses. "Dad, come on. We need you." He set Sammy down and looked to the door, just hoping his dad would come bursting through the door with all the answers on how to make Sam better.

The knock at the door make Dean jumped off the couch. He rushed to the door and flew it open. But his dad wasn't standing there, it was that women again. "What do you want?" he asked incredibly bitter that she wasn't who was hoping for.

His tone apparently didn't bother her; her face never lost that concern, "Are you alright? I heard you yelling and it sounded…"

"We're fine," he said cutting her off. "I was just shouting at the TV." He went to close the door but she blocked it with her hand.

"That's a little difficult considering all we're getting is static. You feel like changing the story."

Dean huffed, "That's why I was yelling. There's nothing but static on the TV, nothing for us to watch." He tried again to shut the door. "If you don't mind, you're letting out the w…"

A sudden thump made Dean spin around; Sam had fallen off the couch and was laying face down on the floor. "Sammy!" The women forgotten now that his brother needed him, Dean rushed over to him.

"Come on Sammy," he rolled him over looking to see if he had hurt himself. Sam's eyes were open but were glassy and looked as if he wasn't really in there. Dean propped him up trying to get some kind of response.

It took Dean a moment to realize that there was no cold air blowing through, the women was kneeling beside him looking to Sammy's unresponsive face, "How long has he been like this?"

Dean was speechless, other then the few people his father had introduced him to he hadn't really been this close to an adult before and truthfully was a little off his game. Things in the supernatural realm he could handle, but sitting this close to an adult not his father made him nervous. "I can handle this, besides my dad will be here pretty soon," his voice gave him away.

The women brushed aside Dean's comments and felt Sammy's forehead, "Your brother's burning up and unless we get his temperature down quickly he might not wake up. So enough of this macho crap kid and let me help." She didn't wait for Dean's answer; just picked up Sammy and carried him into the bathroom.

It was the sound of running water that shook Dean out of his confusion and shock. He got to his feet and entered the tiny bathroom. The woman was placing Sam in the tub, clothes and all. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked running over to her and trying to pull his little brother out of the tub.

"His temp needs to be brought down," she told him holding him back with one hand and holding Sam's head above the water with another. "Trust me, he'll be fine if you just let me help him."

Dean looked from the women's brilliant blue eyes to his brother lying lifelessly in the tub as it filled with water. "Fine." he said softly. He was out of his league here and she seemed to know what to do.

Over the next few minutes Dean was right beside the women as she kept Sammy in the cool water of the tub. He could see the changes coming over his little brother; his cheeks lost the redness for the first time all day. He also seemed a little more alert, at least to Dean he did.

After about five minutes the women lifted Sammy out of the tub, "Grab me any towels you have, toss the few blankest on the heater, we have to make sure he stays warm now that the fever is down." Dean grabbed the four towels hanging on the rack and tossed them to her. He then sprinted into the bedroom, pulled the blankets and sheets off the bed and threw them over the little heater. When he returned to the bathroom the woman had Sammy standing in his underwear and was rubbing his arms dry. "Does he have anything with long sleeves?" Dean shook his head, "Then grab me one of your Dads old shirts."

Again Dean didn't question her, but whipped around looking for his fathers bag. It was sitting beside the couch. Dean grabbed it and pulled out the first shirt that his hands fell on which happened to be his dad's old USMC under shirt. Dean handed the shirt to the women and watched as she helped Sammy into it. "Good now grab me one of those blankets from the heater and we'll get this little guy into bed." She didn't wait for Dean to come back in the bathroom but scooped Sammy into her arms and followed Dean into the living room. She had Dean set the warmed blanket on the couch, wrapped Sammy in it the lifted him back into her arms and carried him into the bedroom and laid him gently into the bed. Dean sat beside his brother as the women stepped back.

"He'll be fine Dean. I promise." Dean brushed back the still damp bangs of his little brother. He seemed to be resting more comfortable, his breathing was more relaxed and if Dean wasn't mistaken there was a small hint of a smile on his lips. "Just keep an eye on his temp," she told him putting back on her parka. "If you feel it's going back up then do what we just did, five minutes in cool, not cold, water. Then dry him off and wrap him in a warm blanket, that'll hold till Pastor Jim gets here."

Dean's head snapped up at the mention of Pastor Jim, "How did you know that name?" He was immediately on the defensive side, realizing she had also used his name but he had never given it to her.

She opened the door but no cold wind blew through it as she turned to face Dean, pulling her parka hood over her head, giving her that hallo looked Dean noticed the first time he saw her. "Lets just say that man has friends in high places." She turned without saying anything else and walked out into the blizzard.

Four hours later John walked through the door to find Dean sleeping next to Sammy in the bed. A sigh of relief escaped his lips. He had finally gotten through to Jim and was told about the frantic called Dean had make. It seemed his little man had been able to handle the situation. John took a few minutes to simply watch his boys sleeping, Dean with a very protective arm around his little brother and Sammy cuddled close to his older brother.

"Thank you Lord."


End file.
